The Highest Room in the Tallest Tower
by mont-blank
Summary: Mr. Carson and Mrs. Hughes think they're alone (A DA take on the Jaime/Cersei tower scene from Game of Thrones S1)


**There is no excuse for this, but here it is so idk enjoy it? **I own only my on original character, the rest of this mess is appropriation.

Bernard hated cleaning the windows, it was one of the most boring jobs in the whole massive entirety of the house. One had to start at the bottom floor and works one's way up all the way to the servant's quarters. Usually it was a maid's job, but on occasion, when they had more work than usual, like when there was a high volume of guests expected soon at the house, it was delegated to the hall boys to save the maids a bit of time to make other preparations. Bernard didn't see why he had to do so much extra work so the girls could wait on guests. He was nearing thirteen and he saw himself as a man, albeit a short one, and he didn't believe it was right to stick men with unimportant work while women got to do all the nice jobs. If only Mr. Carson weren't such an old fashioned old bastard, Bernard would do as he wanted, take his rightful place above the silly girls in silly frocks. He fumed over this idea as he wiped away at the inside of a window on the uppermost guest floor. He would be done cleaning up his section of the house in about three rooms or so. The boredom was unbelievable, that was, until an idea occurred to him: he could make things more interesting by cleaning the outside of the window from the outside of the house.

Excited about his brave new idea, he threw the window open and climbed out onto the ledge. It was thrilling! The ground and even the tops of the trees were so very far below him, it felt magnificent. If old Mr. Carson caught him out here he would surely have his head. With that thought, Bernard decided to get on with the cleaning. He finished part of the window before he noticed a noise coming from open window about two rooms away. It was a rhythmic, breathy noise, it sounded like a woman was making it. He headed toward the open window, careful not to lose his footing or his grip on the house. As he got closer he could hear the noise more clearly. It was definitely a woman, a woman breathing heavily, and she definitely wasn't alone. He leaned in front of the open window to get a better look at what was going on as no one but him should have been up here as far as he knew.

What he saw shocked and confused him. The woman was Mrs. Hughes though he could hardly believe it was her. She was on her hands and knees, her skirt was bunched up around her waist, her buttons undone, and Mr. Carson was behind her, holding onto her hips and pulling her back against himself again and again, making her make the rhythmic breathy noise Bernard had heard. She threw her head back, a curl from her otherwise perfectly pinned hair hanging loose over her face. Mr Carson grabbed her shoulder and pulled her back toward him, he cupped her face with is other hand and nuzzled her ear while he continued his thrusting motion. The whole scene was a mingling of ferocity and tenderness and Bernard found it terribly unsettling. Whatever he was seeing, he was sure he wasn't meant to see it, he knew he could get into trouble for it, and he should get back to his window, but he was frozen in place. Mrs. Hughes opened her eyes, she and Bernard looked at each other for a split second and her eyes showed her immediate panic. "Stop. Stop!" She said to Mr. Carson who followed her gaze to the window.

Bernard tried to back away but Mr. Carson moved quickly and grabbed him by the shirt "Are you completely mad?" he asked.

"He saw us!" Mrs. Hughes said, her panic now audible. Bernard slipped a little and Mr. Carson steadied him "It's alright" he assured Bernard.

"He _saw us!_" Mrs. Hughes said again with an assertion of finality.

"I heard you the first time." Mr. Carson told her before turning back to Bernard. He looked down at how far away they were from the ground and then back at Bernard " Quite the little climber aren't you? How old are you, boy?" Mr. Carson asked him.

"Twelve."

"Twelve" Mr. Carson repeated, defeat lacing his voice. He let go of Bernard and looked at Mrs. Hughes who looked at him from her place on the carpet as if in silent, breathless plea. Bernard heard Mr. Carson say "The things I do for love" and he felt a large hand on his chest, shoving him backward, and a dropping sensation in his stomach as he heard the wind begin to rush past his ears.


End file.
